Fox Tales
by Silver Fox
Summary: A strange girl shows up in town. Farfarello is after her. Unknown forces are at play. Will Weiss and Schwartz survive? ((I am the queen of bad summaries!))
1. First Encounter

**Author: Silver Fox  
Email: Foxneko@aol.com  
Disclaimers: I don't own Weiss Kreuz. There, I admitted it!   
Notes: _italics_ are thoughts **

First chapter up! Kinda short, I think. There might be some yaoi later on...if I ever get there. After reading, please tell me what you think. Is it satisfactory? Is it okay? Does it suck? 

L'il black dragon muse: ::whacks her:: Stop wallowing in your low self-esteem and get on with the story! 

Alright alright! Enjoy! 

It was dream. And he knew it was a dream, because it was real. All his dreams were real, while all his life was a fantasy. Everything he's destroyed: people's lives, churches, his sanity, they held no meaning. Life was a fairy tale to him. He would kill happily ever after.

But dreams, they were real. They held a deep meaning in his heart. Just like this one. This dream, with the black angel. It was funny, a black angel. Weren't they all white? 

His amusement turned to anger. God was mocking him with a black angel. The hatred was visible as he snarled, his grip tightening on the handle of his knife. Had God finally noticed the destruction he was causing? Was God suffering the pain he had once felt himself? Was this angel here to beg for him to stop? Well, he will never stop. God will suffer. For all eternity, God will suffer. 

His lips peeled back into a feral grin. She was running. And he will chase her. Chase her and draw blood. Not enough to kill her, but enough to make her scream. Ah, to hear an angel scream. It will be music to his ears. And she will run. And he would hunt her again. The predator and the prey. And so it begins...…

Fox Tales 

The fox. Secretive, sly, beautiful. She'd love foxes for as long as she could remember. And that's why she paused to look inside the window of a shop in China Town. There, on display, almost hidden among the other larger ornaments, was a small jade fox. So she walked in and asked how much it was. But it was too much. She couldn't afford it. And while no one was looking, she picked it up, caressing it lovingly. It was warm, as if alive. It gave off a pulse, much like a heartbeat, but she dismissed it as a figment of her imagination. 

It surprised her to see that it was already dark out, and that there was no one left in the store. She shouldered her black backpack that lay at her feet. Peering out the open door, she glanced around. There was no one. The streets were empty. Shops were closed. Lights were out. 

Slivers of moonlight shone through the broken windows of the store. Able to see amazingly well in the dark, she was shocked to find that all the merchandise from before were not there anymore, instead, having dust and cobwebs in their place. Her eyes caught sight of a sign. The paint was peeling, but she could still make out the word: Condemned. 

It was like a dream. The once bright and cheerful store had turned old and gray in less than a minute. But she knew it wasn't a dream, because she still had the small fox in her hand, the now cold figurine pressing against her palm. 

Sticking to the walls, she slipped silently down the dark street, tensing with each step. The wind blew her charcoal-colored locks. She brushed at them half-heartedly, as no matter what she did her bangs always got in the way of her eyes, usually hiding her left one. Today was no exception. 

She turned on a corner, stopping dead in her tracks. There was a man, only a few feet away, crouching over a body. A glint of silver gleamed in the night: a knife. Thick liquid dripped off of it and into the large puddle surrounding the body. And the man, no, more of a boy, was looking at her. Blood was splashed on his clothes, and a thin stream slid down his eye patch. 

"Are you the black angel of God?" 

Her eyes widened, confused by his question. 

"I ask you: Are you the black angel of God?" 

He had taken a step toward her, his voice rising. It sounded bitter. She subconsciously edged back.

"You must be the angel. You wear black, yet you bask in the moonlight of the heavens.

She felt a shiver run down her spine. 

"I have been waiting for you. And you have come. And now," He smiled, licking his bloody knife, "the hunt begins." 

She ran. Adrenaline pumped through her veins, and she ran. Her backpack weighted her down a little, but she was in good shape, and she refused to throw the backpack away, the contents too important. But she wasn't thinking about that at the moment. All she wanted to was to survive. 

He grinned. It was just like his dream. She was running. Perfect. With a flick of his wrist, he sent the knife flying towards her. He didn't care about losing it. It was getting rusty anyway. Besides, someone might step on it and infect their foot. 

He watched the blade make contact, cutting her across her upper arm. No, he hadn't missed. It was planned that way. Inflicting a large amount of small injuries hurt a lot more than one swift strike at a major vein. Both ways result in death. Only, one way is more fun. 

"Farfarello!" 

He had heard the footsteps long before his name was called, and waited for his caller. 

"It's time to go," Schuldich glanced at the bloody mass behind him. "What were you doing?" 

Stupid question. What did it look like he was doing? He didn't answer, but grinned. The redhead looked at him. He could tell the German was considering probing his mind, then deciding he didn't want to know. 

"C'mon. Crawford's waiting." 

He nodded, then took one last look at the direction the girl had run off to. He thought about telling Schuldich about her, then decided against it. He alone would have the joy of hunting her down and torturing her. 

_ Run, my little dark angel. Run for your life. 'Cause Farfie is coming after you. _

~ Silver Fox ~ 


	2. Lost and Found

**Author: Silver Fox  
Email: Foxneko@aol.com  
Disclaimers: I don't own Weiss Kreuz and any other legal stuff. There, you can't sue me now! :p   
Notes: _italics_ are thoughts   
_<< italics >>_ are flashbacks  
_[ italics ]_ are dream sequences**

Second chapter! It was done in kind of a hurry, sorry. I hope it's good enough. Much longer. Er, sorry if it's OOC. And please don't kill me, Yohji fans!

L'il dragon muse: Shhh!!! Don't spoil anything! Or I'll whack you again.

Meep. 

_[ Her dark hair danced in the wind, flowing behind her. Her feet ran nimbly, barely touching the ground. Her bushy tail kept her balance as she leaped against a tree trunk and turned around to a stop. Her furry ears twitched as she heard the patter of feet, and chuckled lightly. They wouldn't find her. They wouldn't catch her. It was a game that she always won in.]_

Bright light glowed on her face, waking her from her slumber. Fragments of her dream drifted in her mind. Somehow, she knew she's had that dream many times before. Maybe when she was younger. 

Lifting her arm to rub the sleep from her eyes, she winced at the shock of pain that shot through her from the movement. The feel of thick gauze wrapped around her arm and head reminded her of her wound. But everything else was a blur. She couldn't remember who had struck her. She didn't know where she was. She didn't know **who** she was.

She spotted a bag in the far corner of her room. Maybe it was hers. She swung her legs over the edge of her bed and pushed herself up. Walking the short distance and picking up the backpack, she then brought it back to her bed.

It was kind of old. Strands of thread had freed themselves from the weaving of the canvas. It was black. Pitch black, making it stand out in the white room. But there was no sign of a tag or anything. There was nothing that might tell her what her name was.

She unzipped the backpack and dumped the contents on the bed. A folded cloth, some coins, a box of matches, a pocket knife, a slightly crumpled picture, a battered stuff animal, a notebook, a pencil, and a wallet. There were a couple bills in the wallet and a card.

An ID.

That's what she needed. Snatching it from its compartment in the wallet, she stared at it. The picture was of a 31-year-old man.

Frank Burkens.

Picking up the pocketknife and pulling the blade out, she stared at the shiny surface. Only one gray eye looked back. Locks of hair were in the way of the other.

The ID wasn't her. She was a girl. A young girl who doesn't even know herself. 

While placing the items back into the backpack, she laid her hands on the cloth. It was white, like everything else in the room. Unfolding it, she held it up to examine. It looked like a dress or robe. She sniffed it, a faint, yet distinct scent of lavender reaching her nose.

_<< It was the spray. The wretched spray that smelled so sweet it intoxicated her. The spray that made her drowsy and weak. They used it every time. And she hated them for it._

She sat there, her mind numb, her sight blurring. She couldn't protest as someone picked her up and laid her on the bed. She barely realized that the straps were in place.

A woman was talking to her, but she couldn't hear. The lady then smiled. It was a fake smile. Just like how her nails were fake, along with her eye lashes... Even with her distorted vision, she could tell the woman disliked being there, near her. Near the girl that wouldn't let any of the nurses give her the medication. Near the girl that struggled and fought against her bonds, that is, until they invented the spray.

And the last thing she saw were the white walls before sleep overtook her.>>

"Oh, you're awake, miss?" 

She snapped around toward the source of the voice. Panic rushed through her. She was surrounded by white. Everything was white! Even the woman who had walked in had white hair. 

Wait a minute. Woman? 

"I do hope that fall didn't cause too much of a blow to your head. How do you feel, miss?" 

She remembered. The woman was a nurse. She was in a hospital. A hospital! They were going to strap her down again, and inject her with that drug that made her sleep. A thick lavender aroma surrounded her, choking her. She trembled, leaning a hand against the bed for support.

"Are you okay, miss?" The nurse came toward her.

"Stay away from me!" 

She swung the backpack around, knocking the nurse to the floor. Then she dashed out of the room, the backpack slung across her back and the robe clutched in her hands. She had to get away. Get away from the hospital, the nurse, the bed, the white! They won't get her again. She won't go back. Never again.

~ ~ ~

Aya quietly shut the door behind him on his way out, and walked down the silent hallway, hands in his pocket as he brooded.

It was just like every other time he had visited. She was a still as ever, and the heart monitor beeped at the steady pace. It pained him to see his sister like that. It was not right for Aya-chan to be quiet and still. She was suppose to be happy and full of life. She was suppose to be making friends and going to school. Instead, she was stuck in the hospital bed, not moving, not smiling, and not laughing.

He frowned as yelling and pounding of feet interrupted his thoughts. 

"Stop her!"

"Someone stop her!"

Aya paused and turned around to see a doctor and nurses running toward him. Their target appeared to be a girl around 17 to 19 years of age. As she ran by him, he reached out and grabbed at her wrist, and of course being the expert assassin he was at night, he didn't miss. 

She tugged and pulled against him, trying to break free, but his grip just got tighter. Normally, he would have just hit her or pulled on her hair to stop the struggles of this girl, but he didn't think the nurses would appreciate further injuring their patient. 

She had stopped her desperate attempts to flee. Instead, she had positioned herself behind him, staring at the approaching doctors, eyes wide open with fear like a deer in the headlights. As the doctors and nurses drew closer, she looked at him, silently pleading. He could almost hear her say, "Please don't let them take me. Don't make me go back" just by looking into her eyes. He glanced at the bandages wrapped around her forehead. It troubled him to think that another girl would be stuck in the hospital. She could have just woken up from a coma. 

_Aya-chan..._

"Thank you, sir, for catching this..." The doctor paused. "...patient." He huffed. Aya didn't know if it was from the running or from the fact this girl was most...uncooperative.

"Now, young lady, you're to go right back-"

"I'm here to take her home." 

"What?" Both doctor and the girl stared at him.

"Ran." One young nurse said. She had seen him come frequently. Aya remembered running into her a couple times...Rena. Her name was Rena.

"She had just awoken from a hard fall. She has a suffered a dramatic blow to the head. Not to mention that cut on her arm. For all we know, she could have brain damage. You can't take her-"

"I can and I will." Aya cut her off, glaring at them, daring anyone to try and stop him. Of course, no one did.

"Let's go." He let go of the girl's wrist and started walking down the hall toward the exit without as much as glancing back.

~ ~ ~

She paused, then followed obediently behind the stranger while stuffing the robe into her backpack and zipping it up. Even though the strange boy had saved her, she was nervous, and kept looking back, half-expecting the nurses to jump her and drag her back. The smell of the hallway made her sick. She wanted to bolt out of the hospital and get away as fast a possible, but she couldn't. She had to keep the torturous steady pace lest the one called "Ran" decided to change his mind if she tried to run for her life.

Once the outside breeze washed against her face, she felt immensely better. But now she didn't know where to go. And so, she kept following the boy, who never looked back to see if she was still behind him. 

The streets were crowded. Men and women were striding in a hurry, trying to get to their destination as quickly as possible. Children tugged their parents' hands, asking for the toy in the window. Street vendors shouted, trying to sell the last of their product. Bikers ringed their bells while weaving between the pedestrians. 

And it all scared her.

The crowd, the noise, it all scared her. Everything was spinning, faster and faster. The images and colors blurred together, and the din grew louder, so loud that her ears hurt. She curled into a tight ball, eyes squeezed shut, covering her ears and holding her head. Forget the red-haired boy. Forget trying to find her way. Forget everything, this was unbearable! Everything was closing in on her, ready to smother the life out of her. 

"Hey, you alright?" 

She leaped up into a defensive position, alert and ready. 

"Whoa there, baby. I'm not going to hurt you. Not someone as beautiful as you are." 

A growl grew at the back of her throat. She didn't like sweet talkers. 

"Rrowr to you too." The boy before her smiled, then turned to his companion. It was Ran. 

"Now I see what you do when you go out, Aya." 

She calmed down a hair's breath. The blonde was a friend of the redhead. Not that it reassured her any. But why did he call him Aya? Wasn't his name Ran? Two identities? Hn...

~ ~ ~

"You followed me." Aya narrow his violet eyes at Yohji. 

"Well, some of us have to wonder where you go all the time," The blonde smiled again. "And I see you pick up pretty girls at the hospital." His green eyes peeked over his sunglasses at the girl and winked. She stared back impassively. 

"What I do with my time is none of your business." 

But Yohji wasn't listening anymore. Instead, he had stepped over next to the girl, flirting like he always was. Normally, Aya would ignored everything, but not this time. This time it was different. 

She didn't respond like all the other girls. No, she didn't blush like a tomato or giggle and bat her eyes. She just stood there, her hands tightening on the straps of her backpack until her knuckles were white. Her face was paling, as if afraid of something, but her one visible eye was sparkling dangerously, like a cat that was ready to strike. 

"Yohji."

His warning was too late. Aya didn't know what Yohji did, but she had punched him. Not slapped, punched. Right in the stomach, sending him buckling forward onto his knees from the surprise attack.

And he could see Yohji's confusion. The playboy was use to being able to charm any girl he wanted to in less than 2 minutes. Never had a single girl hit him before. Until now. 

Aya sighed. Yohji's pride would be hurt. And he knew of only one way that the blonde could bring up his self-esteem: More girls. 

The older boy straightened up despite his pain, refusing to damage his ego anymore by appearing weak to the public. He looked around.

As if reading his mind, Aya spoke.

"She's gone." 

~ ~ ~

Ken groaned. For once he was enjoying a quiet moment reading on a nice Friday afternoon. Nothing needed cleaning. Nothing needed pruning or watering. Nothing needed to be arranged and delivered. And best of all, no talkative girls. And just as he was getting to the good part of his book, both Aya and Yohji stormed in through the front door.

He peeked over the top of the pages, meeped and ducked back behind the leather-bound covers. Aya was...Aya, only a little worse. Probably caught Yohji following him. And Yohji...was not happy. He was not grinning and did not have that mischievous glint in his eyes. Ken watched him slump against the counter, taking out a cigarette, and lighting it, ignoring their rule of no smoking in the store. He must have been really upset about something. 

Ken looked at Aya, but the redhead gave him no clue of what was bugging the playboy. 

"What's wrong, Yohji-kun?" 

Only Ken turned to look at Omi, who had just walked in from the storage room, a box of tissue paper in his arms. 

"S'nothing." 

"Don't lie to me. What happened?" 

Silence.

"A girl punched him." 

Ken and Omi swung their gaze toward Aya, then gaped at Yohji, who was blushing. 

"You don't have to sound so damn smug about it," The blonde muttered angrily from embarrassment.

Ken couldn't believe his ears. The almighty playboy Yohji got rejected? It seemed Hell had frozen over. It was hard for him to stifle his snickers, as it was for Omi, who had given up trying to hold it in and fell laughing, the box landing roughly next to him. It looked like the boy would die laughing, if Yohji didn't kill him first. 

Just as Yohji was advancing on the young boy, the front door bell jingled. 

"Manx!" 

~ ~ ~

Ken did not like the situation. It had been a simple mission. They just had to kill some guy who was doing some illegal trading. In, out, nothing else. But no, they couldn't have a break. It was dark, cold, and looked like bad weather ahead. To top it off, Schwartz had to show up. 

"Well well, fancy meeting you here," Schuldich said nonchalantly. 

"Farfarello, Nagi, get the shipment for Mr. Takatori," Crawford barked out. 

And that's how it started. 

Just hearing the name sent Aya into a red rage. He charged at Crawford, katana in hand. Yohji set out to help him, but stopped dead in his tracks. Ken saw the expression on the older boy's face and knew right away: Schuldich.

Aya had somehow knocked the gun from Crawford's hand, sending it skidding a couple feet away. He looked at Ken, and the brunette hurried off with Omi, chasing the other two members that were going for the goods.

Ken tackled Farfarello while Omi sent a dart flying toward Nagi. The dart was stopped in midair and dropped to the floor, but the Irish assassin had slammed hard onto the concrete. Ken leaped back, barely avoiding the tip of a knife. He watched Omi run after Nagi, who was getting away. 

He cried in pain as a searing heat emitted from his shoulder. Farfarello had thrown the knife at him while he was distracted. He yelled and rushed forward, striking down with his claw. A metallic cling sounded has his claw made contact with a dagger. 

The two assassins glared at each other while in their deadlock, both straining to overpower the other. Finally, they broke apart, slightly panting. Suddenly, Farfarello grinned, which left Ken confused. He didn't like the look of triumph in his opponent's eye. Feeling the other's gaze directed behind him, the brunette looked over his shoulder.

At first he couldn't understand. Omi and Nagi had reappeared on the scene, and Omi was fairing well against the Schwartz boy. A look at Yohji showed him that he had broken from Schuldich's hold on his mind, and was fighting back with his wire. Then he saw it.

Time seemed to slow down. He watched Crawford dive over Aya's swing, roll, and pick up his gun. Before he could even get a sound out of his mouth, a loud shot rang out. 

~ ~ ~

_Time to go, Farfie. _

But Farfarello didn't heed Schuldich's message. Crawford had shot blindly in the dark. Probably didn't even scratch the target. It was a distraction so they could get away. He was just as tired as they were, but he had no intention to leave yet. No, he wasn't done yet. There was still something he had to do. 

~ ~ ~

_[ Her dark hair danced in the wind, flowing behind her. Her feet ran nimbly, barely touching the ground. Her bushy tail kept her balance as she leaped against a tree trunk and turned around to a stop. Her furry ears twitched as she heard the patter of feet. But this time, she didn't chuckle. Fear gripped her heart as her pursuer came closer, and she ran. It was no longer a game. No, this time it was real. Yeah, she knew she would get caught, but that didn't stop her from fleeing._

The pain tore through her as she was cut. He was playing with her. But eventually, the hunter would come to collect his prize, his prey. Until then, she would run...]

She woke with a start. It was raining, and the top of her cardboard box was sagging. A shiver ran down her spine as water slid down her hands. The dream scared her. Her unknown attacker could still be out there. But that couldn't be. After all, it was only a dream. Only a dream and nothing more. 

She stopped in mid-thought, looking up from her curled position. Her box wasn't leaking yet. So what was dripping down her hands?

Her breath caught in her throat as her eyes adjusted to the dimness. Forget what she said about the dream. Her hands...

They were bleeding.

~ ~ ~

It was too easy. 

Too easy to find her. Too easy to cut her. Too easy to make her suffer. 

But she did not scream. Even when he had cut her in her sleep and sliced where her nerve ends clustered the most, she did not scream. And it made him angry. Sure, her mouth opened, but no sound came out. Was God protecting his little angel? No, if He were, He wouldn't have let her stay here. He wouldn't have let her remain for him to slowly kill. 

Had God made his black angel mute? No! God can't have! He would not be denied the satisfaction of hearing God's angel scream. He would not!

He grinned. He will make her scream. He will cut every inch of her body and pluck every feather from her wings if he has to. But she will succumb to him. He will make God's angel his. 

~ Silver Fox ~ 


	3. Lucky Catch

**Author: Silver Fox  
Email: Foxneko@aol.com  
Disclaimers: I don't own Weiss Kreuz. Dun sue me. You'll get nothing 'cept chips of Writer's Block and maybe some lint if you're lucky.  
Notes: _italics_ are thoughts   
_<< italics >>_ are flashbacks  
_[ italics ]_ are dream sequences**

Third chapter! Once again, done very quickly, and is very short. Sorry, but there's been technical difficulties with my muse...

L'il dragon muse: _::is squished under a giant Writer's Block::_ x.x 

Oi...^^;;; 

She was cold. It continued to pour and she had to abandon her temporary haven. Trudging aimlessly down an unknown street, she slipped her hands into the pouch on her hooded shirt. Her hands had stopped bleeding some time ago. She couldn't remember. All that was left were two thin pale lines on the backside of each hand from where the cuts were.

Her fingers touched something. Withdrawing it from her pouch, she paused to examine it. The fox. She had forgotten about it.

It was a beautiful thing. A green color with tints of white and twin ruby eyes. Delicate cuts were made in the stone to produce fur. Its head was held high, and the tail straight, as if ready to stand up against anything that would threaten it.

Her clothes were sodden and plastered against her thin frame. Her traitorous eyes that showed her fear for the entire world to see while trying to hide behind the strands of hair that were heavy with water. She was weak. And the motionless figurine knew that. 

And it taunted her. 

A growl from her stomach reminded her that she hadn't eaten since...well she didn't remember the last time she ate. But she needed food now. And there was only one way to get it. 

~ ~ ~

Crawford frowned. How it happened, he wasn't sure. And what to do now? 

"How could a girl have gotten pass our defenses?" 

"I don't know," Schuldich grinned, "But she did. And probably would have gotten away with it too, had it not been that Junior here had to go potty." 

Nagi protested, "Don't call me that!" 

"Hm," Crawford looked at the unconscious figure. "And you say she fought back when you both tried to capture her?" 

"Yes. She was very quick and agile." Nagi volunteered. "Not to mention good fighting skills. Some kind of martial art, I think." 

Crawford looked at the redhead for his insight. 

"Her mind..." Schuldich paused, "It was very elusive. Very hard to get a hold of." 

"Hm," Crawford looked at their victim again. "Put her in the basement with Farfarello." 

Both boys looked shocked. 

"Are you sure?" Schuldich asked. 

"Yes," He replied sternly, "There are some things I want know about our...guest." 

~ ~ ~

He was surprised, truly surprised. Never would he have dreamed this would happen. Something has to be wrong. No way would God have let this happen. No way. 

She was sprawled on the floor where Schuldich and Nagi had left her, water trickling down her face. Her hair fanned around her, almost like a halo. She glowed under the thin ray of light coming from the tiny window of the basement, his cell. 

He grinned. He could still see the thin cuts along her hands, and the one on her arm was probably still there too. And those where only the beginning. No matter the improbability of her falling right into his hands. All that concerned him was that she **was** here. And as soon as he got out of his bonds, she would be at his mercy. Yes...

His grin grew wider and his eye lit up.

_Soon, my angel...soon..._

**What do you think? Probably no good... **

And don't worry, I _will_ eventually get to her name!

~ Silver Fox ~ 


	4. Unknown Players

**Author: Silver Fox  
Email: Foxneko@aol.com  
Disclaimers: Weiss Kruez is not mine. I'm just...playing. It's not like I'm gonna torture them...yet. ^^  
Warnings: Make this PG13 for two swear words and a very short situation that is not very appropriate for kiddies.  
Notes: _italics_ are thoughts  
_[ italics ]_ are dream sequences  
_// italics //_ are visions (Bradley-kun!)**

Fourth chapter! I dunno if it's IC or satisfactory, but I've been kinda busy...

L'il dragon muse: _::is all bruised from being beat by his accomplice, who had forced him to help her write a research paper::_ @.@

Eh heh heh...^.^;;;

_[ She couldn't run any more. The soles of her shoes had long ago worn away, and her bare feet were sore and bleeding, leaving an obvious trail. She didn't care. Her clothes were torn, her hair was a mess, her fur was matted, and she was exhausted. Not even the psychotic cackling that echoed around her could make her go another step._

She had backed herself up into a cliff. No trees, no shrubbery, nothing except a giant wall of cold rock. No place to hide. This was it. The end of the line.

She turned around toward the sound of clattering hooves. She didn't know when her hunter had acquired a horse, but that didn't matter now. All that she thought about was her attacker. Her pursuer.

She could not understand it. Never before had she felt fear. What had happened to her? When did she become so cowardly? Faint memories flicked in her mind. Fights she had fought. Fights she had won. How? Why couldn't she remember? Why?! ]

~ ~ ~

He watched her. Watched her dream. What does a fey angel dream about? God? But why would she dream about God? He was the one who banished her, and He was the one who let his own angel fall into the clutches of His worst enemy. Why would she still pray to Him after all He's done?

She started shivering. It was cold in his cell, and her entire being was wet, except that backpack. Probably water-proof. But she was wet and cold. She's an angel though, so she can't get human diseases...can she?

Why would God let her get sick? Unless...

He strained futilely against his straps. He can't let her die. He **won't** let her die. Not by God's hands. He won't let Him take her back. No! She was his. His! His to control. His to torture. His dark angel. God can't take her. She belongs to Shinigami. And Shinigami wants to hear her scream. Scream until she cries. Scream until God cries. Scream until the last bit of her soul drifts away from God's reach and into the empty black void.

_Scream for me. Cry for me. Bleed for me._

~ ~ ~

"Get her to the gym."

Crawford watched as Schuldich dragged the thin girl out the door. He couldn't put his finger on it, but he felt something from the young girl, surrounding her like an aura. But he wasn't empathic, he wouldn't know.

Farfarello was watching him. Something was different about the Irish man. His piercing glare almost caused Crawford to shiver. Then the vision hit him.

_// She was getting away. Laughing. Laughing at them as she easily ran away._

Farfarello. He was out of his jacket. Hate. His stare was full of vengeance.

She had paled, and was no longer amused. Grim determination. Then she was gone.

Farfarello looked distant. It wasn't over. They would meet again. //

Crawford snapped back to reality. Sweat formed on his forehead. Never before had his visions been so choppy. Never before had his visions been so intense. He had never **felt** what was going on before.

Farfarello was still staring at him. No matter. What ever was going to happen, he could deal with it. At least he hoped so.

~ ~ ~

She barely remembered being roughly carried away. They were taking her somewhere. It was big and bright. There was noise...voices. A sharp pain shot up from her chest. Someone had kicked her.

"Get up, girlie."

Her vision was blurry. She could just make out five or six men. Big men. Towering over her. They held things in their hands. Weapons. She stood up, stumbling slightly. The lights were too bright. It hurt her eyes.

"Don't see why the boss bothered to pit us against some tiny girl." A push. She staggered and almost fell. "She can barely stand."

"Orders are orders." Another said.

"Maybe we can have a little fun first, huh?" Someone grabbed her. His hand was halfway up her shirt. Before she knew it, lips pressed forcefully against hers.

This can't be happening. She wouldn't let it happen. A flare of anger sparked within her. There was no were left to run. So she was cornered. That won't stop her.

She bit down hard, causing the man to yelp and pull back. The metallic taste of blood stained her lips. But someone still had a hold on her.

Whack. Her head snapped to the side. A red imprint was left on her cheek.

"Now, that wasn't nice."

She didn't want to be nice. She raised her arm to strike back, but something wrapped around her wrist. It was a chain. Wrapping her other hand around the end of the chain, she pulled. The man on the other end let go and flew over her head, then crashed into some of his buddies.

The cold steel held in her hands seemed to wake something inside her. She could see clearly, could hear the slightest sound, could fight. She swung the chain, knocking the man that held her away. Then, wrapping it around another man's leg, she tugged, sending the man to the ground.

With a slight flick, the chain came back and wrapped around her waist. Three other men advanced. She smirked.

~ ~ ~

Crawford watched. It was just like his vision. She was fighting. She was winning. She was laughing. He knew what would come next.

"Schuldich, Nagi," He called. "She's going to run away. Make sure she doesn't."

They were puzzled, but didn't question him. They never did.

Now to wait for Farfarello.

~ ~ ~

Schuldich could not believe it if he hadn't seen it. The once thought weak girl was...to put it bluntly...kicking major ass. All seven men were down in less than three minutes. She stood among the groaning bodies, tall and defiant, as if drawing strength from the air around her. Why would she run when she has beaten them?

The German was puzzled. Suddenly, the girl had stiffened. Her smirk was wiped off her face. He looked out of the corners of his eyes. Farfarello was there. Why would she be afraid by him? Sure, the guy can be freaky and insane sometimes...but still...

Something was wrong. Schuldich knew he could only read minds, but now, the air just felt wrong to him. Tension. Ever since Farfarello had walked in, tension was high. A minute passed by silently with no movement. The Irish man was different. He was grim with a look of mixed emotions swimming in his one eye, something Schuldich had never seen in his fellow assassin.

She had bolted. _Damn!_ She was running before he could do anything to stop her. Nagi had froze for a second before trying anything. Too late. He watched her make an impossibly high leap for one of the open windows. He stared as her head turned to look back while still in the air.

Suddenly, he could see a different image appear faintly. Her black tresses flashed gold, flowing like the sun's rays towards Earth. And atop the golden hair, a set of pointed furry ears. Her skin smoothed over like silk, the dirt washed away. Her clothes morphed from rags to a set of cream-colored tunic and pants. From under the rim of the tunic, poked out a glossy tail, perfecting the creature that could only exist in dreams.

And only a dream it was, as the image disappeared as soon as it had come. She was gone. Like Crawford had predicted. Was she a ghost? A spirit? A demon?

~ ~ ~

He had found her. After all this time, he had found her. She remembered they had fought before. Always the same. She would run, and he would follow. But who was he? She could not remember any more. Nothing except he had grown more powerful. She'd have to watch out. So for now, she would still evade him. It was not running. No, she was waiting. Waiting for the right time.

_'Til we meet again..._

...Rowen.

~ Silver Fox ~ 


	5. Two of a Kind

**Author: Silver Fox  
Email: Foxneko@aol.com  
Disclaimers: _::waves banner saying "I dun own WK chars! Dun sue me!" ::_  
Warnings: Strange...veeery strange...  
Notes: _italics_ are thoughts  
_[ italics ]_ are dream sequances**

_::holds up sign like Wile E. Coyote::_ << I'm baaack!!! >>

L'il dragon muse: Ahem...

_::looks down at large descending shadow, then lookes up::_ << Meep. >> _::large Writer's Block boulder squashes her and rolls away, leaving a pancake Silver Fox::_

L'il dragon muse: _::blinks and shrugs::_

_[ Ominous clouds darkened the sky. It rained. It always rained. The droplets soaking into her cloths and dripping down her skin. But nothing could wash away the strange pain she felt deep in her heart. Loneliness? But how could that be? She's always been alone. It's never bothered her before. What was this? Tears? No, it must be the rain... ]_

~ ~ ~

The moon was full and shined down, dimly lighting the streets of the now quiet town. There wasn't a soul in sight, except one figure on the rooftop.

The breeze gently blew his chocolate-colored hair, an air of serenity. But Ken was not at peace. Different emotions raged through him, threatening to overwhelm his common sense. The fear was present, sitting in the back of his mind. It had always been there, ever since that night. The night he had almost lost him...

He blinked rapidly. He shouldn't be thinking about these things. It was over. Nothing happened and nothing will happen. He was their leader, and he was always strong. Only his teammate...

The inner voice laughed at him. It didn't taunt him like it did years ago when the feelings only just started. No, it let him think whatever he wanted, and laughed. Laughed, because it knew no matter what he thought, he was only lying to himself. And Ken hated it. He hated that in the end, the voice got him. It got him down to a state where he was lying to himself. He hated lying. And he hated himself for it.

He shifted his weight slightly, the feel of the gauze against his skin. Damn Farfarello. But it was his fault. He hadn't been paying attention. Wearily, he gazed around. The roof of Koneko gave him a perfect view of most of the town. It was peaceful. Unlike when they had a mission, there were no dark shadows that hid victims, there was no yelling, and there was no blood. Just an ordinary town waiting for the sun to come up for another ordinary day. He froze. _What's that?_

~ ~ ~

_[ It was cold. So very cold. The rain had become snow. Layer after layer piled on her shivering form. Ice seeped through her veins, chilling her to the very core of her soul. She was going to die. Die from the..._

...heat. It was scorching hot. No snow, but sun. The bright rays blinded her. She was parched. She was on fire. The sun was going to burn her alive. It is so...

...cold. Hot. Cold. Hot. Cold. What is happening? Could it be **him**? No...it can't be...how? ]

~ ~ ~

Omi rubbed the sleep from his eyes. Someone was pounding at his door. Who would be awake at this time of night?

"I'm coming, I'm coming."

He yawned and opened the door._ It had better not be Yohji playing a prank._ His mind was still clouded, forgetting that the last person on Earth to wake up this early would be the blonde._ Although I wouldn't really mind seeing..._

"Ken! What are you -"

"Quick! Get the first aid!"

Omi was about to ask why, when he saw the wet shivering bundle in the brunette's arms. It woke him up immediately. It was a young girl, probably around his age. She was deathly pale and looked feverish. Beads of sweat formed along her brow and a large bruise was on her cheek. Her breaths were more of rugged gasps.

The young boy didn't waste time and dashed towards his bathroom. He rummaged in his drawers and opened cabinet doors._ Where is it, damnit?!_

~ ~ ~

Ken shifted the girl in his arms and strained to get his keys. Fumbling, he then inserted it into his door and opened it. The girl was light enough to not be too much of a hassle, and he gently placed her on his couch. Hurriedly, he gathered blankets and piled them at the base of the couch. Then he found a basin and filled it with cool water, placing it on the coffee table with a towel. He wished Omi would hurry up with the kit.

How could this have happened? He frowned. What-

"I got it."

He turned at the voice. Silhouetted by the moonlight at his doorway, Omi was clutching the white box against his chest.

"Do you need help?"

He smiled, walked over, and took the box. "That's alright. I'll take care of her." 

"Really, I don't mind," Omi smiled.

Ken looked at the young boy.

"I can handle it," Ken insisted stubbornly, shooing Omi out into the hallway. "You need to sleep. I'm sorry for disturbing you. G'night!" 

Omi opened his mouth to protest, but Ken shot him a stern look. Grudgingly, Omi pouted and head back toward his apartment.

Shutting his door, Ken quickly went back to his patient. Dropping the first aid on the floor, he headed for his room. Randomly picking a large shirt, he headed back to the couch. Blushing brighter than a red light, he stripped her of her damp clothes. God, she was thin. While pulling his shirt down over her head, he noticed another dark bruise on her side. Did she have internal damage? Hopefully not. Layers after layer of blankets were laid on her. Pushing aside the stray hair, he placed the cool towel on her forehead.

Ken leaned back, frustrated that there was nothing more he could do. Questions exploded in his head. He sighed, pity washing over him. Nothing left to do, but watch.

~ ~ ~

Why did she have to pick this one? She was so weak. Already, she was getting sick. Why oh why, did she pick her? 

Because she was a forgotten child. Because she could disappear so easily. Because she had been through the same thing. It had been easy to persuade her to take her in. And so, she hid deep in this child's mind, a figment in dreams, sleeping with a sense of safety. Only to be awaken by **his** presence.

Years had passed. The child had grown older, yet still was the lost and angry urchin from years past. Once again awake, her own memory mixed with those of this child. It seemed neither of their lives had gotten any better. Only worse.

He was after her again. He was the masked hunter. So long, she had run that she almost forgot why. Oh yes, he had betrayed her. Why should she run if **he** was the one who did wrong? Let him come. She was tired of this cycle. Let it end now.

~ ~ ~

It was morning, and Ken was late for work. Aya quietly pushed open the door. Ken had left it unlocked. He frowned. Ken could get killed like that, letting his door unlocked. Anyone could just walk in. Baka.

His expression softened slightly when he saw the brunette sleeping with his head on the edge of the sofa. The chocolate locks were falling over his closed eyes. Aya fought down his urge to brush those strands away. It was such an innocent moment.

Tearing his gaze from the sleeping boy, he looked at the girl. Omi had filled Yohji and him in about last night. Predictably, Yohji wanted the girl moved to his room. Aya had noticed Omi frowning slightly at this, so he said he'd check on the girl and Ken. Maybe Omi will tell the blonde. Then again, Yohji seemed too intent on girls, and probably won't even consider homosexuality.

She was the girl from the hospital. He smirked mentally. Looks like Yohji won't want her in his room after all, unless he wants a beating. Who would hurt him first, the girl or Omi, Aya couldn't decide yet.

She had gotten worse since the last time he saw her. She was thinner, paler, and injured. Plus, she was much cleaner since last time. Aya eyed the pile of wet shredded clothes in the corner of the coach. Ken probably changed her. A pang of anger clenched his stomach. He didn't understand it, but he couldn't bear it that Ken had undressed her. It was necessary, he tried to reason. Slowly, the feeling went away, although left a trace of resentment.

~ ~ ~

_[ She was lost, like she always was. This was her, the real her. It was the one time she saw herself as if through someone else's eyes. It was the one time the fox wasn't there. It felt strange. Somehow, she should know what was going on, but she didn't. The knowledge was forgotten. The reason was forgotten. She was forgotten._

There was a pool, clear and blue. The surface was perfectly smooth, almost like a mirror. And she kneeled. Looking over the edge, she expected to see her ragged self. Instead, it was **her**. The fox. Why was she here? Why did she plague her dreams always? Were they two souls who shared the same dream? Did she see a dirty frightened child as her reflection in the water? But why would she dream about someone like herself? They were so different. Except their eyes. Our eyes. The windows to our souls. We shared the same windows.

An idea sparked in her mind. Was it possible? Could they be the same people in different forms? Could she really be a golden fox spirit? Perhaps a side of herself she never knew? She wants out. She wants control. Why not? If they shared the same windows, why not doors? 

She reached out toward the still water, pausing momentarily. The fox waited. After this, there would be no turning back, would there? The smile and sad hint in her reflection's eyes told her everything she needed to know. After this, she would no longer exist. Closing her eyes, she took on last breath. The light breeze blew through her hair. The sun shined down on her, enveloping her warmly. For one moment, she felt happy. Slowly, her eyes opened. And for one last time, she saw herself as she really was. A dark haired girl who had lived despite the turmoil she experienced. Perhaps finally, she could let go of those memories.

The fox was back and still waiting patiently. She felt a solitary tear slide down her cheek and into the water. The image of the fox blurred as the ripples fanned out. She thrust her hand through the water, and felt herself being drawn in. For one second, the two beings crossed, their emotions, their memories, their soul mixing. And then she was gone. Drifting away from the light where she saw the fox smiling at her. And she smiled too. Right before she disappeared, she saw the fox say something. Although she couldn't hear, she knew what was said.

I promise.

~ Silver Fox

**Comments please? Is my first posted fic going well? I need to know!**


	6. Unexpected Consequences

**Author: Silver Fox  
Email: Foxneko@aol.com  
Disclaimers: Weiss Kreuz is not mine. I've only abducted the characters momentarily to perform strange experiments on them, and you will think they are all crazy when they try to tell anyone. Heh heh heh.  
Warnings: Profound language...and a not so sane author...  
Notes: ****_bold italics_** are thought speak

I live!

L'il dragon muse: Is that suppose to be a good thing?

_::ignoreignore::_ So sorry I haven't updated in a while...although I don't think I was missed... Anyway, another chapter. I swear, I'm trying to wrap it up. I'm sure people are getting sick of this never ending fic and my babbling. 

L'il dragon muse: Just let what few people read this read it already!

>P 

He stared blankly at the floor where she had once occupied. The damp spots were gone now, leaving only dry cement floor. How she slipped from his fingers, he didn't know. Strangest of all, he was glad she got away. She truly was a magnificent creature; perhaps one of God's better creations.

Did he just praise her? Well, she had survived much longer than he had expected. She was more talented than he thought, and cunning, like a vixen.

When did he start comparing her to a fox? No matter. He **will** find her. He tightened his grasp around the tiny figurine he found, smirking. He **will** succeed.

The voice in his head said so.

~ ~ ~

The first thing that dawned upon her was she no longer had a tail. There was not stump jabbing her as she laid on her back. But to her dismay, she had no acute hearing or sense of smell. She was quite limber, despite her frail frame. She hadn't completed a full recovery yet, though. The switch had taken a lot out of her. The light hurt her eyes. She was too weak to do anything, and pray to Inari-sama that **he** won't find her in such a sad state. Nothing she could do, except surrender to the blackness.

"I see you're awake."

She forced her eyes to stay at least half-open. It took awhile for them to focus on who was talking. It was some male with brown hair.

"How do you feel?"

The way he said it...was it...concern? No, her thoughts must still be muddled. No one would be concerned about her. Oh, she had to answer, didn't she?

"...mgh..."

So much for a simple "yes" or "no." But she was so tired. It was too difficult and painful to move. Her joints and chest ached and her muscles were sore.

"You should get some more rest," He said, "By the way, my name is Ken."

Ken. Such a simple name. Nice.

What was hers? It was too difficult to recall it now. She'd just have to make one up. Hm, what would she call herself? Nothing too common...Rochelle? No, it didn't sound Japanese. Well, she was a vixen, wasn't she? Hm, _hulee_ was Chinese for "fox." But that would be too strange. Or...

"Lee. Call me Lee."

~ ~ ~

He growled with frustration. This one wasn't as easy to crack as the others. This one didn't want to just hurt her, like he wished. No, this one wanted to damn her to hell. Then again, didn't he sometimes want her to die? He could sometimes feel his emotions sliding into this one's soul, occasionally influencing his thoughts.

Oh, how he missed the old times, where he had his own body, and when they were together. As much as he tried to deny it, he still yearned for her. He missed the comforting presence of her ki. And her soft lips...

No, she had left him, like all youkos[1]. He should have expected it, but she seemed so different from those other whores. Well, he was mistaken, and she was going to pay for playing with him. It was time for work.

**_Farfarello..._**

~ ~ ~

He opened his eye to the normal sight of the floor and the feel of the straps around him. The time had come. Getting out of his jacket would be no problem. Over the years, he had mastered the art of slipping out from the bonds. Foolish Crawford, for not seeing this possibility. They underestimated him.

**_She's waiting for you out there..._**

He could feel where she was, an excited spark in his eye. He was tired of playing, and was going in for the kill. Perhaps finally, his mission would be complete. Finally, it would end.

~ ~ ~

All was going as she had hoped, although it had taken awhile to finally reach this point. She didn't think that bitch would run for so long, but it is impossible to run from the inevitable. Now it was all up to her darling. He wouldn't let her down. Once that whore was gone, they could finally be together, as it should have been in the beginning.

Yes, he would finally see she was the one for him.

~ ~ ~

She couldn't stand being confined in that room any longer. She had long become well enough to walk around, but she was forced to stay indoors. It was driving her nuts! She paced back and forth in the hall like a caged animal. If she had a tail, it would be bristling with agitation. She needed to be outside. She needed to run. She needed to be free!

That boy...Ken...was out. Didn't he say working? She should escape now. Who was going to stop her? She "borrowed" a pair of jeans and a black T-shirt, and tugged on her shoes, which were still wearable.

There was a sliding door that led to a porch. The feel of the afternoon air against her skin was cool and relaxing. Peaceful, even. She couldn't remember the last time she felt this good. But where to go now? She couldn't jump to the ground and risk breaking something. After all, this wasn't her old body. She didn't know if it was strong enough to withstand such a leap.

She spotted a metal ladder that led upward. It was small distance from the porch, but out of reach. Would she be able to grasp it if she jumped? Or would she fall to her doom? Or she could just go back inside, and forget all this. Uh, freedom was so close, yet so far.

What was she thinking? Before, she would have never thought twice about the danger. It was not like her to be afraid. It was this child. This child had lived her life with fear by her side. It was affecting her mind.

Foolishness. It wasn't that far. She would not fall. Crouching on the edge of the porch, she tensed, then sprung forward. Her palm slapped the cold iron rung, and she clasped her fingers around it before gravity would pull her down. She dangled for a few seconds, swaying, but pulled herself up before the height would make her lose her head.

Scrambling up the ladder, she pulled herself up onto the roof. She took a deep breath, and felt the adrenaline and tenseness slip from her muscles. This wasn't home, but it was open. Oh, how she missed these quiet times alone.

Something didn't feel right. It was too quiet. There were no birds chirping. A predator was close. Very close. She turned around. Oh no...

"Check."

~ ~ ~

Aya stared out the window at nothing in particular. Ken and Yohji were in the back. Business was abnormally slow that day. Their usual fan club had not stormed the store yet. Oh yeah, there were finals. Omi was gone because of it too. He sighed. How he wished something would happen, like a mission. They hadn't gotten one in a while, and he was going stir crazy. He was trained to kill, not sit around idly.

All of a sudden, he saw someone fall from above and roll into the streets. He narrowed his eyes. It looked like Lee... Someone else had jumped landed in a crouch besides the fallen person. Aya felt his blood burn through his veins, a common feeling before battle.

Farfarello was here. Here. At Koneko. His violet eyes darted left to right, but he saw no sign of the other members of Schwartz. Why the Irish was here, he didn't know. But he worked for Takatori, so he was a target.

Aya grabbed the spare katana he had strapped under the counter. The others had given him strange looks when he had first put the weapon there, but he didn't care. They were too naive to assume no one would attack their shop.

Farfarello was attacking Lee. What would he want with her? He had to admit that she was evading the blades quite well. But she was tiring. He tore off his apron and pulled the katana out of its sheath while rushing out the door. He would kill Farfarello. And Takatori would have one less bodyguard. Yes...

"Shi-ne!"

~ ~ ~

She frowned. He was floundering. So many times, he could have struck a killing blow. But he didn't. He can't still have feelings for that bitch, can he? After all her planning, he can't falter now. No, her darling just needed a little help. And she knew just what to do.

~ ~ ~

She tripped and fell backwards. This was it. He was advancing. Momentarily, she saw Rowen's face. His white-blonde hair, his amber eyes, his ever present smirk. He hadn't switched places like she had. He didn't have complete control. But his influence was enough.

He was going to do it. He was going to kill her. He really did hate her, didn't he?

Her shoulders quivered as a tear slid down her cheek. It would finally be over. No more running. No more pain.

"Shi-ne!"

She clamped her eyes shut, waiting for the deathblow. But it never came. He wasn't the one to yelled it. Then who? She looked up.

It was Aya...Ran? Whichever one the redhead called himself. The two of them were in a lock, both trying to overpower the other. She heard the rushing sound of something approach, and scrambled to her feet. It was something big. She leapt backwards and onto the sidewalk. But the other two were still there. They were oblivious.

"Look out!"

~ ~ ~

Ken dropped the small bags of soil. The scream came from the front. He dashed through the back door towards the front desk. He stopped dead in his tracks as he stared dumbfound out the open door.

Lee was across the street, eyes wide with icy fear. Farfarello had just jumped and rolled to the edge of the street. And there was Aya. Ken felt his heart stop from the screeching tires and audible thump.

"Aya!"

~ Silver Fox ~

**[1] For those of you who don't know Yu Yu Hakusho, youkos are fox demons, famous for being thieves and being very sexual beings, and not exactly the most dependable lovers. Yeah.**

Oh, and I'd like to say thanks to all the reviewers. If it wasn't for you all, I would have given up on this fic a _long_ time ago. Arigato! 


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